Batch

09-17-2012 -- [First off, this was not lucid, I did not know it was a dream while I was dreaming it, but part of why I remember the parts I remember so well is because I was recalling the details of what happened earlier in the dream in the dream, not trying to remember it as a dream, but for the possible lawsuit. Also there may have been more before this, and it may have been dull or interesting, but I can't actually remember anything further back than I tried to remember in the dream, except that I am certain that it did go further back. Takes a while to get to the weird, repeat dream, time travel parts.]

Somehow I am in a parking lot of a strip mall. Could be a lot of places, but I'm pretty sure it is on Colonial, near Highway 27 in Clermont. I have no idea why I am here, and everything seems to keep shifting, but I seem to be meeting mom here, and she seems to own a business.

For much of this portion, I am in the parking lot, along landscaped curbs, though it is a business, as well. At one moment, it seems to be a gym that mom owns (anybody who ever met my mom, who weighed over 400 pounds, would know this makes no sense), and at another, a sort of copy center. I am supposed to be doing some work for her, and my 'station' is a table, just sitting in this parking lot.

Somebody knocked the table over, and stuff is scattered on the floor. I am trying to get things straightened up again. Somehow this leads to some time cleaning up litter in the parking lot, and I am talking to mom's assistant, who is kind of cute, looks a little like Rosemary's friend Mary. End up picking up a small sort of alarm clock that has broken into three pieces and am putting it back together so it works.

I ask about it, and they are moaning that it shows the next three jobs we're supposed to be doing, and they are worried things won't get done because the alarm disappeared when the table got knocked over. I explain it was right underneath the table, and I fixed it, and they are happy about it. I am gently tearing what seems to be a page with three coupons on it out of a half-size coupon store thing like I once bought an ad in, as I wait for mom, who is talking to somebody else, inside the store, except that somehow it seems to be some kind of work order for us, regardless of the fact that it looks like a coupon.

Continue cleaning up scraps on the floor, and start to come across several old comic books (ones I have dreamed about in other dreams, within last couple of years) that are just randomly sitting half in the open, half under the tables (that are still out in the open in the parking lot). I am gathering them up to throw them away, except I halfway have some kind of idea that these are some sort of mid-range comic books that are kept under the tables to keep them out of the way. They aren't cheap enough to go in the regular bins, nor expensive enough to be put on the walls, but maybe $40 or $50 an issue. They include a lot of random titles, some old Green Lanterns, and a couple of old Spider-Mans. Somehow this leads to looking at some racks mom has of trade paperbacks, and I am glancing at the thick black and white archive editions of Green Lantern stuff that print 20 or 25 issues in a single $15-$20 newsprint volume, thinking when I have money and a job, I might want to buy a few more.

By this time mom's gym or printshop or comic store is closing for the day, and they are preparing to lock it up. I walk out of the store (finally inside) and head a little north in a mall the store is in. (Almost seems to be the Buena Park Mall). I think I am a few doors down from Sears, and am passing a bookstore that I decide I want to look through. When I first glance at it, it looks exactly like Waldenbooks, but when I look again, it seems to be a different bookstore.

They are probably about to close as well, but they say nothing as I start to browse. It is a long, narrow shop, like Waldenbooks was, and I am walking back the main aisle, looking at the displays on the right side as I head all the way back. As I get to the back, I see these strange mannequin-like figures that seem to be slightly moving or swaying. There is an incredibly long line of them, and they almost seem ready to go down like a row of dominoes.

By this time, I am driving down somewhat narrow roads around some attractive houses while looking at all these mannequins, and soon I am not driving, but being driven. Soon it seems like I am being driven around a very nicely landscaped seaside community. I am seeing people walking their dogs, and somehow I am recognizing things that I drove around or saw years and years ago, though I'm still trying to piece together exactly what it is I am remembering.

We are on our way back, and are getting close to the front of the store again, when I see a small red pick-up truck parked along the curb, and I am suddenly certain I remember that truck. Wasn't that the truck that Ashlyn Gear did a sex scene with some black guy in it? Wasn't it one of the hottest scenes I ever saw? The truck is quite an old model, from the late 70s or early 80s, but it looks brand new. As we're driving past it, I see a door in the building open, and a very young, vibrant Ashlyn Gear walks out and is heading for the truck, followed by a black guy, and everything kind of falls into place.

Back almost 25 years ago, when I was just barely legal, I somehow got a couple of video tapes. One had one pornographic scene on it, Ashlyn in the red truck. The other was a worn video tape of some kind of TV show that had been recorded (poorly) over a tape of porn scenes, and you could catch tiny bits of the porn flashing in and out of the newer stuff. The thing that had been taped over the top of the porn was a drive through the small, well-landscaped community.

I start to confront them about how I saw these tapes 25 years ago, and yet they are only filming them today. And somehow they have an Ashlyn Gear here that is about 25 years younger than the Ashlyn Gear of today. Obviously there is some kind of time travel going on here, and I want to know what is going on. They try to distract me by driving me through a different part of the community, showing me the route I actually remember from the video tape, yet denying there is anything odd going on. I'm asking them to drive slower as we pass the red truck, and am even considering stopping and trying to get into the act.

Soon I am back to the front counter, trying to demand the speak to the manager, except it has turned from a bookstore into a car dealership that sells old classic cars that seem to be absolutely brand new. I keep trying to demand to know about their time traveling method, and they keep acting like I am insane, while trying to sell me a brand new 1980 brown pick-up truck in the year 2012.

We argue for a little while, and I am threatening law suits, and am reminding myself of the entire typed-out portion of this dream in my mind so I can remember it to tell it to the lawyers. Soon I am in the brown pick-up truck, and seem to be kind of stealing it while the sales manager is threatening to call the cops. I tell him he calls the cops and I'll blow the whistle on his whole time-travel thing. I drive the truck out of his lot and on to Douglas Avenue in Altamonte, turning left to drive toward Altamonte Blvd.

[I have no way to prove it, but I am almost sure I had another dream that I was remembering in this dream of driving around the community, waiting for people to cross the street with their dogs, and so on ... though it feels like I dreamed it 10-12 years ago, and not 25 years ago. I can't remember if there were any hints of sex in that earlier dream. I can't remember any, but it kind of feels like it. Weird stuff.]